Until a short while
ago I was only aware of Constantin Silvestri
as a conductor of insight, integrity
and a still sorely missed figure in
the music world. Having been born too
late to hear him personally, my experience
of his work has been via recordings
alone, but these leave a strong impression
of a serious and complex musician at
work.

The art of writing
a good biography is far from straightforward.
One should include factual detail about
the subject with accuracy and authority,
but more than that a wider picture of
the personality behind the life, and
an impression of the times through which
the individual lived should be sketched.
All of this John Gritten achieves with
ease in this volume as he paints an
affectionate portrait of Silvestri,
his music and his time.

We are taken from his
youth, full of precocious talent for
improvisation, as a student of the ‘Iron
Lady’ Florica Musicescu, who also taught
the young Lipatti to his early career
as a pianist, ever the groundstone for
one with ambitions as a conductor and
composer. In the respect of the intertwining
of numerous significant musical roles
Silvestri appears akin to Enescu, who
remarked that the young musician would
bring honour to Romania: and so it proved.
Yet talent shrouded an often fragile
being: it seems particularly in his
younger years were cast under the shadow
of one depression or another, despite
the clamouring of audiences and critical
esteem his work was held in.

Gritten rightly stresses
the efforts Silvestri went to as a pedagogue
and performer to carefully foster both
Romanian and foreign composition within
his native land. His students included
leading lights of the Romanian avant-garde
such as Anatol Vieru, and he was closely
associated with a production and planned
recording of Enescu’s magnum opus, the
opera Oedipe, which never came
to pass due to ‘political interference’
one might say. Following his decampment
from Romania – first in Paris and later
in Bournemouth – Silvestri always carried
that passion for music and music-making
within him, the knowledge that the act
itself had the power to move and change
(even fleetingly) the lives of those
around him.

His time in Bournemouth
is covered in depth, and it seems at
first some people found it hard to accept
Costi - as those close to him affectionately
called him. The chapter ‘How not to
be an alien’ might be considered essential
reading for anyone attempting to deal
with the English Establishment whilst
possessing a scant linguistic grasp
– the nerve of Costi’s cheeky remark
to the Duke of Edinburgh ("We are
both mongrels", before elaborating
"I am an Italian-Austrian-Romanian")
had me screaming with laughter ...

But it was not only
linguistic matters that rubbed against
the grain with some - though not, it
seems with his orchestras - it was also
Silvestri’s very expressive style of
conducting – to the extent that he almost
seemed to embody works – and this at
a time when it was quite out of fashion
as an approach in the UK. Today the
Romanian chief guest conductor of the
Hallé, Cristian Mandeal, brings
to mind the Silvestri ‘model’ by similarly
expounding compositions works from the
inside out.

It wasn’t made with
regard to Silvestri so far as I know,
but one can imagine Beecham’s caustic
remark being applied: "Why do we
employ so many third rate foreign conductors
when there are so many second rate home
grown ones about?" Such views say
more about those that make them than
about their target in any case. But
the view is not one-sided as the book
benefits greatly not only from Gritten’s
own recollections of hearing Silvestri
in action. There are also a large number
of interviews and recollections from
those that knew Silvestri throughout
his life, personally and professionally,
both in Romania and the UK. That Costi
finally came to be accepted by the notoriously
narrow-minded musical establishment
was a result of little more than constant
effort on his part, and some notable
musical results drawn from the wide
variety of orchestras he conducted.
Audiences it would appear took to him
far more readily.

Composition held (until
the age of forty) an important role
in Silvestri’s life too – not only piano
music but some highly complex and idiomatic
orchestral scores and songs flowed from
his pen – often imbued with a calculated
pseudo-improvisatory feeling. Composition
ceased as conducting took over more
and more of his time, and his compositions
are listed in Appendix 1, which is followed
by a useful analysis of some 19 pages
written by Zeno Vancea, Silvestri’s
composition teacher at the Târgu
Mureş
Conservatoire. With numerous musical
extracts, it’s likely to be of most
use to trained musicians or amateurs
with good score reading skills, but
the fact that an analysis is included
at all demonstrates the commitment given
here to providing a volume that
has something to offer many different
categories of reader.

Of interest too is
the transcription of Costi’s rehearsal
of Elgar’s In the South (Alassio) –
his recording with the BSO appears to
be temporarily unavailable – but I remain
hopeful that it won’t be for long. Inevitably
given the fluctuations of record company
wiles these days, the discography serves
as but a guide for what a collector
might find – though no doubt the intrepid
will find the listing of recordings
made in Romania useful if visiting that
glorious country.

So much of the time
reading this wholeheartedly recommendable
book has been accompanied by listening
for me – both to Silvestri’s music in
concert and Costi’s recordings as a
conductor. Of available recordings,
the knock-down bargain has to be the
10 CD set Constantin Silvestri: The
Collection from Disky Classics (DB 707432)
that retails at under £20.

I recommend the book
without hesitation for countless reasons,
not least because it opens new avenues
of enquiry and illuminates a significant
musician with generosity and affection.
Now, given that recent years have seen
recordings of music by the likes de
Sabata, Weingartner and Furtwängler,
surely someone will rise soon to Silvestri’s
cause. It’s certainly about time – no,
long overdue.

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